Guardian of Honor

He sat up straight. “It is wrong.”

She raised her eyebrows again. “We gave our new Marshall a choice of bedmates last night, in the hopes we could avoid the formal ritual. She retired alone.

“The rest of us are agreed. Do you choose to challenge us, Chevalier Luthan, with combat? Or call a vote of all the Castle, Tower, Chevaliers, Cloister and Towns?”

Luthan shoved his chair back and stepped away from the Council table, distancing himself from the decision. He leaned back against the stone wall, ignoring the chill that would bite even past the argenthide of his riding clothes, and folded his arms.

“I choose to personally disagree for the Lorebook.”

Thealia sighed. “Always so contrary. Of two options you always choose a third.”

A touch of a smile graced his lips. He glanced at the little model of Alexa and a hint of pity passed over his face. “And this Choosing will take place this afternoon.”

“So, you did read the Castle information board?” Thealia stared coolly down her nose. “The funds and lands that come with Alyeka as her dowry could greatly benefit you.”

“Not at that cost. I won’t be offering a token for the Choosing Table.” He headed for the door.

“Luthan, before you go, cleanse yourself as if for a great ritual and use the protection pool,” Thealia called.

He paused. His brows lowered as he studied the Marshalls. “It really does make a difference?”

“Now, and probably in the future,” Thealia agreed.

“Is it true that it’s painful?”

“Agony,” Partis said cheerfully. “But you’re a tough, young knight, you’ll handle it.”

Luthan grimaced, outlined the badge on his tunic in an absent gesture. He glanced at Thealia. “Is it a suggestion, or an order?”

Thealia felt her face soften, wondered if it was evident to the others. She had such a love and delight in Reynardus’s sons, this one in particular. “Only a strong suggestion.”

Luthan ran a hand through his hair. “I can be cleansed, in and out of the pool before the Choosing. I’ll inform Bastien of this conversation this evening. I’m sure he will take advantage of the pool also—if for no other reason than his pride.”

Mace cleared his throat and Luthan turned to him. “Yes?”

“If you flew in on a feisty volaran stallion, after the pool you might want to leave on a gentle mare.”

Nodding shortly, Luthan bowed to them and turned.

“Luthan,” Thealia said.

He looked over his shoulder.

“I don’t believe your father thought of using the pool. You might remind him.”

Luthan’s gray eyes clouded, chilled. He inclined his head. “My squire will send him a note,” he said stiffly, then left.

“The boy had a point about the Choosing and Pairing,” said the oldest Marshall, Albertus.

“Do we have to discuss this again?” Thealia asked.

There was silence around the table. Several Marshalls wouldn’t meet her eyes. She didn’t like a forced blood-bond any more than the rest.

It could be chancy: if the drug mixture or amount wasn’t right, or if the drugs affected the Exotique’s judgment so she made a bad choice. To be tied her entire life, mind, body and heart to the wrong man—Thealia cut off her thoughts. She couldn’t afford them. There were many others who had and would sacrifice themselves for Lladrana—Alexa was just one more cost.

It was unfortunate that she would be forced, but how they needed her Power! The Spring Song had prophesied that the Exotique was the solution to their failing boundaries—the melody rippling out in a hopeful trill.

Thealia hardened her heart and her expression. When she met each of the Marshall’s eyes again, she infused them with her own determination. This had to be done.

4

“Call me Sinafin,” the fairy had said in Alexa’s dream, twirling and tinkling like wind chimes. The little being was no more than three inches high and completely pink—lacy wings, pointed ears, hair, tiny gown—everything.

Sinafin had stared at Alexa as much as Alexa had stared at her, and for as long.

“I must be dreaming,” Alexa had said.

Sinafin had perched on the headboard and swung her feet. “You are. I’m not really a fairy. I just took this image from your mind.” She shrugged and considered her wings. “It’s not a bad form, but I don’t think I’ll wear it outside of your dreams.”

“Then what are you?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Sinafin had replied with music in her voice. “What does matter is that you understand what is happening.”

“What?”

Sinafin had sighed, studied her toes and flexed her feet. “You have been Summoned to Lladrana.”

Alexa’s heart had thumped. She’d licked her lips. “Heavy mojo. Chimes. Rainbows. Chant. Gong. Large silver pentacle. It doesn’t look like I can get home easily.” She didn’t even want to think about disappearing holes and big hairy monsters. With fangs.

The fairy avoided Alexa’s eyes.

She sat up straight. “What aren’t you telling me about getting back?”

“It would be a massive undertaking for a Ritual to return you to the Exotique Land.”

“But?” Alexa had spotted a hesitation in the little woman’s words.

A minute pink tongue dampened pink lips. “There’s a moment, a Snap, when your Land calls to you.” She took off from the headboard and zoomed a circuit around the underside of the canopy. “Like when sometimes before you fall asleep, your body jerks.”

This time Sinafin perched on Alexa’s upraised knee. The serious look on the little pointed face didn’t suit Sinafin. “You have a moment to go or stay. Wish to go, and you’re gone. Hang on to something here, and you stay.”

“When does this happen?”

Sinafin shrugged. “Who knows? Days. Months. Years. Different times for different people. Sometimes the Snap is easy, sometimes hard. Different for different people.” She frowned. “Or maybe sometimes it’s easier for people to stay or go.”

“Duh,” Alexa said, throat tight.

“But we really need you here.”